


A Happy Saint's Light

by MoonlitMusings



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Multi, holiday fluff, second citadel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitMusings/pseuds/MoonlitMusings
Summary: Humans have so many silly celebrations, Arum shouldn't have been surprised there was one for the winter solstice.





	A Happy Saint's Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is my tpp secret sants gift for @coloredink on tumblr, who requested a cute holiday story. I hope you like it!

Arum knew something odd was going on as he approached the cottage, but he didn’t actually know what. The day before Damien had been more adamant than usual asking if he’d be there the next day, to which he replied that of course he would. Why wouldn’t he be?

There was distant music drifting over the city’s walls through the twilight. Melodies one might call cheerful, if one was prone to considering such things. Arum regarded the sound with indifference. Probably another one of those festivals the humans insisted on celebrating. It was the winter solstice, after all. Even the monsters observed it to a degree, though it was a more private acknowledgment of the eventual end of winter, rather than a large, noisy celebration.

As he approached the cottage, he noticed a single candle burning in the window. Odd. One of their silly human customs, perhaps?

Rilla and Damien were sitting by the fire when he entered, and Damien jumped up to great him, Rilla following behind.

“Lord Arum! You’re here!”

“Where else would I be?”

“Oh, I- nowhere, I suppose. I- I only meant that I’m happy to see you.” Arum chuckled and nuzzled Damien’s cheek.

“I’m happy to see you too, Honeysuckle.”

“Arum,” Rilla greeted him with a nod and a smile.

“Hello, Rilla.” Arum made his way over towards the fire, already feeling more energized from the heat in the cottage. He hated how drowsy he got in the winter, but there was really nothing for it. He sat down in the chair closest to the fire which the other two had taken to reserving for him, and settled in, letting out a contented rattle. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _I should ask about staying here. Just for the rest of the winter. I prefer my tree, of course, but it’s always so warm in here..._

“And how are you this fine Saint’s Light?” Damien asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. Arum cocked his head.

“Saint’s Light?”

“Yes? Oh! Oh, I- of course you wouldn’t celebrate- oh, how silly of me to presume- though I suppose it wasn’t so much of a presumption as a slip of the tongue-”

“Breathe, little knight,” Arum cut in. Damien paused, clamping his lips tight together, and took a deep breath through his nose. Rilla rubbed his back and nodded approvingly. “You said celebrate. I assume this “Saint’s Light” has something to do with the music I heard coming from the Citadel?”

“It does, yes,” Damien replied.

“It’s a holiday,” Rilla explained. “Celebrating the winter solstice.”

“Oh, but it’s more than that!” Damien exclaimed. “It’s a celebration of the saints, as its name suggests. Of the light and guidance they bring to the people of the citadel, even in the dark of winter. It’s a time of joy, and hope, and generosity, and togetherness!”

“I see,” Arum replied. He never knew quite what to say to things like that. He had his own personal opinions of the saints. At least the major ones. And like most monsters, they weren’t overly favorable. That said, he wasn’t about the begrudge his little knight something that clearly brought him as much comfort as his praying to his namesake, and little celebrations such as these.

“It’s also traditional,” Rilla continued, pulling out a small bundle, “to give gifts to loved ones, meant to be helpful to them in the coming year.” She offered the bundle to Arum, who took it hesitantly, suddenly feeling awkward. He didn’t like being caught off-guard by things like this. If he had known gifts were meant to be exchanged, he would have brought something.

“I... thank you. I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything-”

“It’s fine!” Damien cut in. “We didn’t think you would. Not that you aren’t thoughtful! It’s only that, we didn’t expect you to celebrate, or even necessarily know about- so we wouldn’t want you to feel bad about not getting us anything, because we don’t mind.”

“We just thought it might be nice to get something for you,” Rilla finished, her hand now resting on Damien’s shoulder, steadying him. Arum nodded, turning his attention to the gift. It was a thick wool in a deep forest green, wrapped around something else. He unwrapped the fabric slowly, finding a small box inside. In it was a set of jars and vials, made from thick, sturdy glass, all corked.

“For specimen collection,” Rilla explained. “I know some of yours got broken a while ago, so I thought you could use a new set.”

“I could, yes. These will be quite useful.” Arum set the box aside and shook out the fabric slightly, unraveling it to reveal a hooded cloak. He saw now, looking more closely, that it wasn’t the solid green he first thought. Instead, it was covered in finely embroidered vines and leaves, in a shade just lighter than the background. The only other colors were along the edges and hems. There, tiny amaryllis and honeysuckle blooms were embroidered, the red and white standing out against the green in a way Arum had to admit was quite pleasing to the eye. When he looked away from it he saw Damien staring at him, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Something to keep the rain and snow and wind off,” he explained when Arum caught his eye. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, Honeysuckle.” Damien visibly relaxed, a bright smile blooming across his face. 

“I’m so glad you think so. I had the tailor sew several pockets of different sizes into the inside as well, for carrying samples and what have you.” Arum inspected the inside of the garment, and sure enough there were at least a dozen pockets of various shapes and sizes. He stood, swinging the cloak into position over his shoulders and securing it around his neck. It fit him perfectly, and was heavy enough to keep him dry, as Damien had said, but still light enough that he could tell it would billow slightly behind him as he walked.

“Well, how does it look?” He glanced between Rilla’s eyes and Damien’s, appreciating the contrast between her small smirk and quiet appreciation, and his wide eyes and warm smile.

“You look stunning as always,” Damien replied, voice tinged with awe in a way that made Arum’s frill ruffle slightly in pride.

“Very regal,” Rilla added, in that tone that Arum could never quite tell whether it was earnest or teasing. He suspected a bit of both. He could live with both.

Arum let out a quiet, pleased rattle and undid the button holding the cloak on, swirling it off his shoulders before sitting back down and folding it carefully, setting it gently on top of the specimen collection box.

“Thank you both,” he said, smoothing down the fabric before looking up. “They’re very... thoughtful,” he finally settled on.

“I’m so glad you like them,” Damien replied.

“We both are,” Rilla pitched in.

Arum still felt a little bad about not having anything to give them in return. It was unmannerly, after all. Even if it was only for some foolish human celebration. He didn’t think he was being particularly obvious about it as the three of them began chatting, but Rilla was always sharp.

“Damien, why don’t you go put a kettle on for some tea? I’m sure Arum could use more warming up.”

“Of course!” He jumped up and moved swiftly to the kitchen, and while he did, Rilla leaned in closer towards Arum.

“You really don’t have to feel bad,” she said, quiet enough for Damien not to overhear from the other room. “We just wanted to do something nice for you since, tis the season and all. We don’t expect anything in return.”

“I’m fine,” Arum insisted. “You already said you didn’t expect anything, and I had no way of knowing about this little holiday of yours. There’s no reason I should feel bad at all.”

“No, there isn’t,” Rilla replied with a slightly wry smile.

“There isn’t,” Arum echoed. And I don’t know why you thought I did.” Rilla shrugged, sitting back up.

“Just thought I might offer a reminder. Just in case you were.”

Damien returned shortly after, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly, and uneventfully. They shared some tea, Arum told them about his day, he and Rilla discussed how their latest finds and experiments were going, and Damien told them about his newest poems, asking their opinions on a couple lines. A quiet, comfortable evening. Comfortable enough that none of them noticed the snowfall increasing until Arum went to leave for the night, and found the few inches that had been on the ground when he’s arrived had increased to well over a foot. Arum sighed and started to put on his new cloak when Rilla stepped over and closed the door.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Home? Where else?”

“Not in that weather you’re not,” she replied.

“I’ll be fine,” he argued.

“You’ll freeze to death and you know it. Just stay here tonight. We have plenty of room.” Arum hesitated.

“We would be more than happy to have you stay,” Damien added after a moment. Arum sighed.

“I suppose... it might be more comfortable to stay here for the night.” Rilla rolled her eyes. He ignored it. “Though I will warn you that I’ll have to get up early in the morning to make sure the snow hasn’t damaged any of my plants too terribly.”

“That’s fine,” Damien assured him.

“We’re both pretty heavy sleepers,” Rilla added. “And we’d much rather be woken up a bit early because you stayed than have you freeze to death because you didn’t.”

Arum had to admit to himself later that night when they were all in bed that it was definitely _much_ more comfortable. Particularly given how _warm_ Damien and Rilla were on either side of him. The bed was a little small for three, but that only meant they had to lay closer together, allowing Arum to enjoy the warmth and contact even more. And true to Rilla’s word, neither of them woke when he rose at dawn the next morning, gathering his things as quietly as he could before heading out. As he did, he looked at the box of vials and felt the cloak on his shoulders, and looked over the rest of his belongings, thinking.

When Rilla and Damien woke later, Arum was already gone, but two of his daggers, strong and sharp and beautifully designed to look like leaves, were sitting on the table on top of a note. Arum was still getting used to human writing, so his handwriting was a bit clumsy, but it didn’t take them all that long to figure out what it said.

_I know you two said I did not have to give you anything, but I felt it would be discourteous of me not to. These daggers are very finely made, and require very little sharpening. I am sure you will each find use for them. Enjoy the rest of your little celebration._

_I look forward to seeing you both this evening._

_Lord Arum of the Swamp of Titan’s Bloom_

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious, this is what I came up with when brainstorming Saint's Light:  
> Saint’s Light: a time to celebrate all of the saints, and the light and guidance they bring to the people of the citadel. People light candles all over, and each house has one candle set up to burn from sunset of Saint’s Light Eve, until morning the day after Saint’s Light. It’s also a celebration of togetherness, joy, and generosity, in the spirit of the saints who gave so much to the citadel. Traditionally, gifts are given to loved ones that are meant to help them in the coming year.
> 
> Also, Rilla got Damien a new bow, and Damien got Rilla a larger mortar and pestle.
> 
> Edit: Also also, super huge thank you for all the lovely comments! They seriously made me blush. Y'all are the sweetest.


End file.
